The pizzas are in the oven, and the kids are putting together Big Brother's newest Star Wars Lego toys. Soon enough we'll turn on a movie that should get all the kids to relax enough to fall asleep so that I can then go to bed.
Not so long ago, however, we were at Laser Quest, and in the two games we played before and after the cake and present opening I came in second and then first.
I have to admit that by win I mean I took my own amount of experience and age and ruthlessness into a maze filled with a few friends and kids of friends and a bunch of rowdy kids I do not at all know. I kept my back to the wall and kept my eyes moving for those red lights.
I shot withering barrages of laser blasts into small masses of children, many of whom were not only wearing the lights but also white shirts that glowed beckoning in the blacklights.
I posted up at windows as I heard the squeals of terror approaching in the dark sending red burning death into the group trying to slink past, heads low.
I ran reaching over walls to blast blindly at sounds that may well have been solely products of my over active senses.
Everyone was an enemy unless I needed a friend for a moment. Everyone was a target for my blinding rage.
And I beat them all.